Rites of Chaos
by Okarin Losigre
Summary: Sibyll Trelawney delivers a prophecy which worries the Dark Lord Voldemort, a man recently elevated to demigod status. When Voldemort makes a mistake, he is forced into hiding. He later returns to the realm of the living to face his four prophesied foes. Divergence from canon results from changes in magical theory and the means by which Voldemort became immortal.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Rite of Ascent**

Tom Marvolo Riddle stood at the center of a large circle, drawn in blood on the empty space which gave the illusion of solidity, staring into the face of a man with tan skin wearing a black robe. The man, Vorea, smirked, his cerulean eyes glinting behind the straight purple hair which fell neatly below his ears. Of course, no true man could compare to Vorea. He had been born immortal, like the other four divinities hidden from Tom's sight around the circle. The demigod of chaos stood before Tom, his intensity disconcerting to the mortal who suddenly remembered what forces he had thrown himself to the mercy of. The thought of how terribly wrong his plan could go sent his body into a fit of trembling, but he quickly suppressed his fear. He gathered his focus and forcefully shut his inhibitions out of his consciousness, mentally scolding himself for the momentary lapse in discipline.

_"I am Lord Voldemort. I fear nothing. From this point forward, I will also be immortal. Today, I am a demigod. Today, I am untouchable."_

A cold laugh echoed around the dark lord, feminine and threatening in its amusement and arrogance, low in pitch and volume but vast in its coverage. The voice which followed sent a shiver down Voldemort's spine. "You may be powerful enough to qualify for the Rite of Ascent, but you have no hope of defeating any one of us, much less all five. Besides, you are at our mercy in this realm until we allow you to claim it. You will never possess the powers of old, so you will never truly be like us."

Devanise, the demigoddess of communication, scowled, her long silver hair flowing neatly down her back, the top layer tied away from her pale face and dark blue eyes. Voldemort could feel her disapproving gaze, but he forced himself to remain calm. Long, pale fingers swiped aside the black hair which had fallen into his eyes. He forced himself to make eye-contact with Vorea, knowing that he was the one who would ultimately decide the result of this meeting. Reddish-brown eyes, calm and focused, became locked on cerulean. Vorea grinned, his lips curling upward slightly on the left side as his eyes shined with anticipation, playfully malicious. "Well, Tom? Are you ready to Ascend?"

Voldemort nodded in silence, though it was more like a bow than a nod, a sign that he submitted himself to the will of the divinities around him. Suddenly, five voices were chanting in the ancient tongue of magic, Zaltraikan. The magic of old would respond to nothing less, and few contemporary mortals had the pleasure of even hearing it, much less learning to speak it. The words were nonsense to Voldemort, drifting through his mind in a fog of magic. Suddenly, Voldemort fell to his knees, never looking away from Vorea's eyes, now turned upwards as though he could see paradise in the empty white space above.

Voldemort felt several forces slamming into him before he felt the unmistakable sensation of being healed by magic. The five voices split to ten, then one-hundred, then one-thousand, until the world was buzzing and roaring with a multitude of sounds, beautiful as they were powerful. The magic which had torn his soul asunder was undone, his spirit in one piece again with no signs of damage or stress.

Then, the magic exploded. The pleasant orchestra of voices erupted into a cacophony of screeching, pounding, and ripping. Light erupted from the circle, painfully bright, but Voldemort still did not look away from the cerulean orbs, not even when red tears fell from his eyes. There was a force beneath him, like it was trying to pull him into the abyss below. The fact that no visible surface was present to support him, leaving the circle as the only sign that he was still safe, was not at all comforting.

Simple feathered wings sprouted from Vorea's back, predominately purple with cerulean and red hues alternating between the ends of feathers. Voldemort assumed that, beyond his tunneled line of sight, the other divinities had similar magical constructs, but he knew that such things could not be created for any mortal, regardless of power.

The pressure intensified in a soaring crescendo, pitches splitting to the extremes with whistling winds and pounding pulses of magic, the voices rising in volume in the background. Voldemort had never felt so much sheer power, no matter what rituals he had performed. This Rite was on a completely different level than what he could possibly experience on Earth. Each moment, the magic was flowing through him, filling him, breaking him, healing him, and making something new from his battered form. There was something beyond the pain, power and peace, such that he could not help himself. An almost manic grin split his face, and only the intense feeling that sound would somehow disrupt the moment kept him from laughing in pure joy.

The sound died suddenly, light expanding outward into the surrounding emptiness. Vorea met his unmoving gaze once again and smiled; it was the first non-threatening look he had received from the demigod. Suddenly, Vorea disappeared without a sound. Voldemort looked around to see that the others had done the same. However, he was no longer in an empty space.

Voldemort was sitting atop a tall stone tower, something he suspected to be even taller than Hogwarts. It was fairly plain with little ornamentation other than windows, but the surrounding area was covered in trees and rivers, caught in a perpetual dawn. The air was comfortably cool with a slight breeze which called to the new demigod. He knew without asking that this realm belonged solely to him to do with as he pleased. Nobody would be able to enter without his permission.

Voldemort sighed into the unclouded morning sky, feeling lighter than he ever had.

There was work to be done and a war to be won, but Voldemort would never die.

The world was full of possibilities.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Prophecy**

Sibyll Trelawney walked into the Hog's Head with a smile on her face, appearing to glide across the ground with an eerily graceful stride, broken and confused as it seemed to be. It almost looked like she was not sure where her foot would land at any moment but allowed the momentum to carry her forward regardless. She smelled heavily of incense, so much that many around her wrinkled their noses in distaste, and whispered lightly beneath her breath, like a soft wind of incoherent secrets. She had been meditating frequently over the past week to stir the activity of her inner eye, calling to the Void for a sign of her true abilities to make itself known when it was most needed.

Sibyll caught sight of Albus Dumbledore and followed him into the private room. The wizard greeted her kindly, his aura strong and comforting with a gentle hum, seemingly untroubled by the weight of war. Sibyll responded with the necessary pleasantries while adjusting her large round glasses to settle neatly atop the bridge of her nose, green eyes drifting to a place beyond vision. Albus began to question the strange woman on her techniques, and she outlined the usual ways of looking into the Void, but Albus did not seem particularly interested. She knew she would need something more convincing to prove she was not a fraud.

"Naturally, the more efficient ways of seeing the future are more dangerous and should not be attempted by children. Perhaps fifth years and higher could also work with some Shadow Water and ivory daggers. I would, of course, recommend diamond looking glasses, but they are far too expensive for commercial use."

At this, Albus raised a brow in curiosity. He had heard of Shadow Water being used for advanced divination, but the other methods were unusual. Just as he was about to question the logic though, Sibyll fell abruptly into a trance and began to speak with the voices of the Forgotten.

"Power, Sight, Truth, and Light,

Joined together they will fight.

Destruction, Time, Creation, Space,

The Dark Lord they'll have to face.

Torment, Solitude, Madness, Restriction,

To overcome the Divine Affliction,

Power, Sight, Truth, and Light,

Only one beholds the Rite."

When Sibyll returned to herself, she offered Albus a questioning gaze for his stunned expression.

"Is something wrong?"

The old wizard slowly shook his head before coming back to himself. He smiled softly at Sibyll, his blue eyes tiredly unfocused. "Nothing is wrong. In fact, I would like to officially offer you the position of Divination Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Sibyll smiled widely and shook the old wizard's hand. "I cannot wait for the opportunity to work with you and the rest of the staff."

Though she was not sure what happened, Sibyll reveled in her success, thanking the Void for its aid while sending her own magic into it via her natural link. She was certainly not as strongly connected to the Void as others could claim, but the link was strong enough to make her a Seer. She would not dare to complain.

Meanwhile, a tall, pale young man with black eyes and hair walked quickly away from the Hog's Head.

* * *

Severus Snape apparated to the top of a grassy hill and pressed his wand to the Dark Mark on his left forearm. A portal appeared before him, the edges covered in flickering purple flames. Nothing was visible beyond the door-shaped connection, but Severus walked through it without fear.

When Severus emerged from the portal, it closed behind him, and he was left in a stone room with a throne of bones set in the center ring. There was enough space to hold the entire Great Hall of Hogwarts in the cylindrical room.

Severus strolled along the blood-red carpet toward his Lord's throne until he could see Voldemort's red eyes clearly. Then, he bowed low and waited for acknowledgement. "Severus Snape, what brings you to my domain unannounced?"

The wizard sighed to relieve his tension. "My Lord, I overheard a prophecy being delivered. I thought you would want to know."

Voldemort listened as Severus recited the prophecy, his anger building with each word. He mentally released a raging rant. _"How dare they? I am a demigod! I am immortal! What could four mere mortals do to me? I am untouchable! I have surpassed the limits of humans! They cannot touch me! This prophecy though… It is far too close to my situation to risk ignoring. Dark Lord… Divine Affliction...yes, there can be little doubt. These four mortals will threaten me somehow."_ He looked down at his follower, angry but controlled. "The prophecy implies that the four can only succeed together, so I really only need to kill one to win. If we assume that the four words are always coordinated with the same people in order, we may be able to figure out who they are before they become threats. What do you think Severus?"

"My Lord, I believe the first line refers to traits while the third refers to magical affinities."

Voldemort nodded thoughtfully and paused before responding. "If so, then the first person would theoretically be the biggest magical threat: Power and Destruction. They say Monsters are born only to destroy: they're extremely powerful and can even become immortal if allowed to master their magic... Pure, Elemental, Abstract, Natural, and Transformation. They are notoriously difficult to predict though since they can be purebloods, mudbloods, or somewhere in-between. Sight and Time probably refers to a Psychic or Seer. That one would have the benefit of knowledge but wouldn't contribute much to an attack. The final two are far more vague. Truth and Creation could refer to an elf or some other creature, but I have never heard of magic relating to space. Have you anything to contribute?"

Severus thought for a moment but shook his head in resignation. Voldemort dismissed the wizard before returning to his thoughts. "Monsters are dangerous. After all, there is a reason the Egyptians enslaved them. Black hair, vivid eyes, and pale skin aren't exactly uncommon here in England. What else gives away a Monster? I suppose I'll have to research the Egyptians. Surely, they must have found a way to track them down. There must have been a few foolish parents who tried to hide their children."

Voldemort sneered into the empty room, cursing the fact that, even as a divinity, he still had to fear for his life. He would not stand for it.

* * *

Harry James Potter had been born on July 31, 1980. Eight months later, as Lily was holding him in a small garden, Harry saw some flowers and reached for them, dismayed that they were so far away. Suddenly, the branches of a rose bush grew several feet to bring a brightly blooming rose right into the infant's face. His bright green eyes lit up with delight, but Lily was shocked. She had never heard of an infant performing such strong accidental magic. When she consulted her husband, he assured her that it was not too odd except for the fact that it could only be done with Natural magic, something neither of them had. Usually, Natural magic came from creatures. Humans rarely developed the gift, so James called in Albus Dumbledore to make sure there were not going to be any more surprises.

When Albus arrived at the Potters' house, he hid his anxiety. After all, what were the odds that a fully human child would have Natural magic? With the prophecy made so recently indicating the involvement of a Monster who would suffer from "torment", he feared for the Potters' safety should Harry prove to be one.

James welcomed his old headmaster into the house where Lily sat nervously upon the couch. Harry restlessly stirred in her lap. Albus offered a few greetings before walking over to the boy, tapping his wand on top of Harry's head.

Harry giggled in delight as the magic flowed through him, warm and comforting with a low hum of power. Streams of light emanated from the wand's tip, spiraling back toward its owner's hand like vines, climbing and intertwining. Red, orange, green, blue, and white ribbons of magic were splitting and twisting together in a dance of life and color. The display was beautiful, but Albus' smile displayed sadness with a twinge of fear. Lily, seeing this up close, nearly burst into tears.

"Albus? There isn't anything wrong… is there?"

"I am sorry Lily, but your son is… a Monster." The words were spoken gravely, but the worried mother only became confused and slightly angered by the statement. "How dare you call my son a monster? He hasn't done anything to warrant such a title!"

James, on the other hand, was in shock, eyes wide and hands trembling. "Albus, are you certain? Is there no other explanation?" The old man hung his head solemnly, trying to find the words to comfort his former students. "Only Monsters have this peculiar combination of magical forms, and the physical attributes match. There can be no denying it."

Lily's face was burning with anger, and she was barely able to keep the grip on her child relaxed. "James, what on Earth are you talking about? How could you call our son a monster?"

James finally came to his senses and sat slowly beside his wife, lightly ruffling Harry's hair. "You never learned about the forms of magic since it's a subject passed down orally within magical families." The man sighed heavily before continuing. "There are seven forms of magic: Pure, Elemental, Abstract, Control, Transformation, Death, and Natural. The test Albus just performed was designed to test how many forms of magic a person has and which ones are present. The forms are color coded: white for Pure, green for Elemental, red for Abstract, yellow for Control, orange for Transformation, purple for Death, and blue for Natural. Therefore, Harry has Pure, Elemental, Abstract, Transformation, and Natural magic. These are the forms which define a certain type of mage, commonly called a Monster. Monsters are rarely born outside of Egypt, and they are seldom born there these days either. Unfortunately, the name was never changed, mostly because nobody cared enough to bother once Monsters became uncommon. Besides, Monsters are still considered very dangerous today. They are naturally intelligent, powerful, develop highly destructive powers which no other person can ever possess, and have the potential to become immortal. Many would rather kill them before they have the chance to grow up. Albus, isn't there something we can do to keep this hidden until he can defend himself?"

The old wizard stared long and hard at the fearful man, contemplating the options. Lily, on the other hand, was more concerned that such an important piece of magical knowledge had been denied to muggleborns. "What do these forms of magic do? Are the subjects of Hogwarts divided between them? Are they separate? Why don't you teach this in Hogwarts?" She nearly kept ranting, but when she saw the resigned look on Albus' face, she fell silent.

"Lily, though I hate to admit it, the old magical families influence standard curriculum more than you would like to think. The board of governors decided that, since muggleborns rarely have any forms other than Pure magic, formal institutions would teach only that form, and families would be in charge of passing down knowledge and skills concerning the other six. However, Pure magic is the most versatile form, so there has never been a reason to demand that other forms be taught at Hogwarts. The purebloods prefer to keep the knowledge of greater magic to themselves. We can talk more about this later, but for now, we have far greater problems. There is a prophecy which implies that a Monster will work with three others to defeat Voldemort. Due to their rarity, I believe it is safe to assume that Harry is involved. I can hide his powers for a time, but if I do, he will be unable to use them. In order to protect himself, he will need to master his magic, not hide it. Therefore, instead of hiding his magic, we could instead hide his location. I could place you all under the fidelius charm so that nobody can harm Harry until he is ready."

As Albus went on to describe the protections he could offer to the family, he could not help but fear for the child. At least he would be able to keep Harry's location hidden from those who would hunt him. The Headmaster simply hoped that would be enough.

* * *

Voldemort grinned as he completed the ritual, his body painted with the blood of a panther as he sat upon a stone at the center of a lake. The water was black with shadow-like mists creeping over the surface. The lake of liquid darkness, also known as Shadow Water, remained still in the silence of a night thick with magic.

The demigod rose from his spot and returned to the Stone Tower where he sat upon his skeleton throne. Red eyes shone with anticipation. "Harry Potter, I shall kill you before you can even speak my name. Then, nobody will be able to threaten me. All I have to do is track you down."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Torment**

Peter Pettigrew was a weak-willed man by nature. With his short stature, unhealthy weight, and rat-like features, he was neither strong nor charismatic. His friends were few, and even they were not particularly close to the unpopular animagus. Therefore, it was not very difficult to make a choice when he had been threatened by a homicidal demigod. Perhaps greater men than he would have stood firm in their beliefs, but Peter would not suffer for the sake of people who looked down upon him. He followed the Dark Lord willingly, though not loyally, and he was ecstatic when he received information most valuable to his master. All the death eaters had been told to search for the Potters, though nobody knew why, and Peter now knew of their location. It seemed his old friends had blinded themselves to the truth.

Regardless, Peter had a report to make for his Lord. As he knelt before the demigod, telling the secret he had been trusted with, a twisted smile stretched across the rat's face. Never again would he be considered useless, for he had succeeded where nobody else could. The Dark Lord was pleased, and Peter would be rewarded in time. However, first, Voldemort had an infant to kill.

* * *

Lily had stood before Harry's crib, watching him play with a vine he had taken from the garden, making it grow and bloom. Of all the child's magical forms, Natural seemed to come most easily to him. The boy had seemed undisturbed by the fact that they were hiding from a divine psychopath. Mere hours later, she ran back up the stairs toward the same crib, trying to find an escape from the very same psychopath. The vine was wrapped protectively around her arm as it had been since Voldemort's appearance. She had no time to think of betrayal as the demigod burst through the door behind her.

"If you would only step aside, I could just kill the Monster and be done with it. I'd be doing you a favor anyway."

"You will not kill my son." Unarmed, Lily had little means to protect herself and her child, but she stood firm against the demigod. "I won't let you."

Rage exploded within Voldemort, and he raised his wand sharply. As he began to cast, Lily shielded her child from the danger, muttering under her breath words of love and safety. In her final breath, she whispered one last message to her son. "Let all that is mine be yours, and do not let yourself fall prey to evil."

Harry stared up at his mother, his eyes flashing with a glow of magic as green light filled the room. As the woman fell to the floor, her hair spread over the carpet, and the vine disintegrated into a cloud of black particles. The cloud lingered on the floor as Voldemort approached his target, the particles taking on a red hue as they slowly approached Harry.

As Voldemort raised his wand toward the infant, a red mist leapt from the floor to create a dome above Harry. Green light formed at the wand's tip, mixed with the mist, and rushed into Voldemort's lungs, filing his entire being. Releasing a primal scream, magic lashing out toward his enemy, Voldemort returned to his own plane to heal, leaving behind two dead bodies and a baby with a lightning-bolt scar.

* * *

Voldemort left a message in his public chamber. A pillar with green writing stood in place of his throne. As the demigod retreated within his private chambers to regain his strength, many of his followers came to see for themselves what mission the Dark Lord had left them.

THE POWERS OF A MONSTER ARE FORMIDABLE INDEED.

HARRY POTTER IS OUR PRIMARY ENEMY, BUT THE TIME FOR REVOLUTION HAS NOT YET COME.

PREPARE THE WIZARDING WORLD FOR MY RETURN, AND ENSURE THE BOY NEVER REACHES HIS FULL POTENTIAL.

Each servant of the demigod chose a different way to walk this path. Some infiltrated and corrupted the government while others made devastating attacks against the magical world. However, over the next decade, Voldemort's assumed death allowed most people to breathe a deep sigh of relief. Only a select few, well aware of his demigod status, continued to prepare for his inevitable return.

* * *

A boy with black hair and a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead lifted his eyelids to reveal a startling shade of green. The child appeared about nine but would soon turn eleven. Momentarily confused by the lack of light coming from beneath the cupboard's door, the boy listened closely for any sign that his family had stirred. Upon hearing nothing, he determined that, despite its irregularity, he was the first to awaken. Taking advantage of the rare opportunity, he sat up, the pile of worn blankets shifting beneath him, and began to meditate.

The boy had read a book in the library on meditation once and was fascinated by the calming effects it was said to have. He had always wanted to do it in the morning to clear his mind for the day ahead, but Aunt Petunia was an unnaturally early riser, though she insisted it was normal. As the world around him became distant and insignificant, a sense of peace fell over the child. After a time, he was not sure how long, a dull pounding cracked his resolve. When his mind returned to focus on the physical world, he heard his aunt calling out for him to make breakfast. Not wanting to be scolded, he quickly stretched and emerged from the cupboard, recently unlocked. Seeing the post beneath the door, he retrieved the letters. Shocked for a moment to see an envelope addressed to one Harry James Potter, he slid the letter beneath the cupboard's door and brought the rest to the kitchen.

Making breakfast was a simple process, and one Harry could almost enjoy if not for the unpleasant company he was forced to keep. His aunt was not particularly cruel for the most part, but her tone of voice had a rather irritating quality to it, no matter what she said. Her words always had a sense of forced arrogance compensating for her dull housewife lifestyle. Of course, her clear disdain toward her nephew did not help matters. Then again, if there was anything more irritating than Aunt Petunia being a dull housewife, it was her being a doting mother to her overweight son. Dudley Dursley leapt downstairs toward his meal with unmistakable thunderous landings.

As soon as the woman targeted her own son, she began speaking in a sickeningly sweet voice, asking if there was anything he wanted. "I'm hungry! When's the freak going to finish breakfast?" Before responding, Aunt Petunia took a quick glance at her nephew's progress. "Just a few more minutes now. Why don't you sit down for a bit?"

Dudley sat obediently, but his impatience shone as clear as purified water. Meanwhile, the scarred boy, also known as 'freak' or, to his teachers, Harry Potter, quickly made the motions to finish the meal. As the meal completed, Harry rushed to serve the feast. Just as the food hit the table, Vernon joined the group, scowling at his nephew who rushed out of sight. "Good morning Pet, Dudley: A fine morning indeed that I don't have to wait for lazy children to serve breakfast."

Petunia smiled at her husband, agreeing eagerly, but Harry tried to ignore the pitiful remains of his family. Vernon was a cruelly efficient man who cared only for his own personal success. Naturally, this meant he needed a job with a high salary and a small, normal family to keep him company. He would do whatever was necessary to ensure this. Dudley reaped the benefits, demanding mountains of material possessions and a great deal of positive attention. Harry just tried not to cause trouble and performed his chores to a satisfactory level.

Breakfast consumed, the Dursleys got dressed and left for the day. Vernon had work, Petunia met with her book club of gossiping housewives, and Dudley would be playing with some other neighborhood children. Harry took the rare opportunity to eat a few table scraps, trying desperately to stave off the hunger for a short while. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon weren't particularly pleasant, but they were still better than Dudley and the other school bullies.

Wishing for a better life, Harry finished his chores and returned to his cupboard to read. After all, he had worked hard for the right to borrow books from the library. However, seeing the letter on the floor, nearly forgotten, the child decided that it warranted immediate investigation. The letter spoke of magic and a special school to which he had been invited. Thinking back on all the phenomena he had never been able to rationalize, he made a decision and wrote a letter. He addressed it to Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but he had a feeling the post office would not accept something so vague. However, the child saw no other options.

When Harry walked out of the house, he was stunned to see an owl swoop down toward him. As it landed softly upon his shoulder with a hoot, he stared at the bird with wide eyes before looking at the letters in his hands, thinking about the remark about keeping owls as pets. Lifting the invitation, he addressed the owl, feeling a bit foolish. "Did you bring this?" The owl hooted and spread his brown feathers, seeming anxious to take off. "I suppose that would be a yes." Lifting his own letter, he tentatively held it up to the owl. "Can you take this to Minerva McGonagall at Hogwarts?" The owl grabbed the letter from his hands and flew off into the sky.

Harry returned to the house and, wondering how he could entrust his future to a bird, went to read his books. After all, he couldn't think of anything else to do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **

I apologize for the amount of time it has taken me to write this chapter. I was kept quite busy with college until May. I had thought that the summer would bring me the time to dedicate to writing, as well as other projects I lacked the time for while I was away. Unfortunately, I was mistaken. After returning from university, I found it very difficult to focus on a task requiring so much thought as writing a story. It took me several weeks to muster the willpower required to even look at the document. Since then, I have been writing 2-4 paragraphs at a time every few days. At this pace, I am afraid of how long it may take to finish this. I will try to work on it more, but chapters probably will not be posted very often. I deeply apologize to anyone who has been patiently waiting for an update.

For those who are reading this and have not seen my profile page, this story is set in a universe combining elements of J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series with those of my own original story. I have taken liberties with the characters' back-stories and abilities in order to make them better fit the new universe. A more detailed explanation is available on my profile.

**Chapter 4: Hogwarts**

Minerva McGonagall sighed as she looked down at her desk. It was covered with parchment: letters from parents, government officials, other professors, and her own notes for the year. There was a stack of letters which already had replies and another pile of parchment which needed to be passed along to the headmaster, but the loose parchment seemed quite overwhelming. She pushed her glasses up and rubbed her forehead. Her eyes were closed, but they quickly opened when an owl swooped into the room.

Looking down at her desk, Minerva was pleasantly surprised to see a letter from Harry Potter. She began reading it, but as it continued on, she became increasingly concerned. She took the letter and walked up to the headmaster's office. Albus was surprised to see her there but welcomed her in regardless.

"Albus, I just received a letter from Harry Potter concerning his Hogwarts letter, but I think you'll want to read this."

The old wizard took the paper hesitantly and started reading.

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Hello, my name is Harry Potter. I believe you sent me an acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I don't know if this will reach you or not, but I'm a bit confused. Everyone says that magic doesn't exist. I guess it could. After all, I've done strange things over the years, but if it is real, I'm not sure where to go to get the materials. I've never seen anything like them. Also, I really don't think I can afford to go to boarding school. I doubt Uncle Vernon would pay for it. Is there still a way I can go? It sounds like it would be an interesting place to learn._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry James Potter_

Albus stroked his beard in thought. "Well, I cannot say the behavior of his relatives is surprising. Petunia never held much love for magic after all. Still, we'll have to rectify the situation. Someone will have to escort the boy to Diagon Alley and explain our world to him. After all, the boy seems to have a healthy curiosity." By the end, the headmaster was smiling gleefully. "I think Hagrid would be an excellent choice, don't you Minerva?"

Professor McGonagall looked gob-smacked. "How in the name of Merlin could you think Rubeus Hagrid would make a proper introduction to the magical world? Mr. Potter will ask many questions, some of them undoubtedly involving sensitive subjects. There must be someone more suitable to the situation available."

"All of the professors are busy preparing for the new term, as you well know, and his escort really should be a representative of the school. That leaves the non-teaching staff of Hogwarts. Can you imagine Argus Filch leading Harry Potter through Diagon Alley? Besides, Hagrid knows all about Hogwarts and the magical world. He will be perfectly capable of answering Harry's questions while being sensitive to his needs. He will also make an excellent guard against the possible threats lurking about the alley."

Minerva sighed, seeing no way around the headmaster's insistence. "For Mr. Potter's sake, I hope you're right. However, I truly believe he should be added to the list of muggleborn students yet to be visited by one of our heads of house. I would personally go myself on one of the designated days of you would allow me to."

Albus smiled jovially. "Your concern for Mr. Potter is reassuring, but I know how much work you still have to complete within the next month. Hagrid will guide our long awaited student as he enters this magical world."

* * *

Voldemort rose from his bed for the first time in ten years. His muscles would spasm periodically, and his nerve endings continued to send signals of pain from his sensitive skin. His human form had been mutilated since _that_ night. His flesh was dark gray with traces of purple, like he was covered with a giant bruise. His hair had fallen long ago and never regrew, and most of the exposed cartilage in his body had been decimated, leaving him without features such as ears and a nose.

It had taken a long time for the Dark Demigod to recover as much as he had. Immediately after the attack, his skin had been dissolving, blood pouring out from every inch of his form. He had felt the strong, invading magic eating away at his being. He managed to fight off the energy before it could attack his bones, joints, and internal organs, but the magical damage would not respond to healing spells and salves. All his magic was dedicated to maintaining his systems as his muscles, nerves, and skin regrew. However, he was finally nearing the end of his isolation.

Tom felt his strength returning, slowly but surely. Of course, he could not leave the safety of his realm until he had fully recovered, but he would soon be able to summon his followers. The creature laboriously settled himself into a pool of steaming-hot water, allowing the heat to soothe his aches. "I should not have underestimated that child. Despite how young it was, that thing was already a dangerous Monster. That stupid mudblood just had to get in my way! Well, next time, Harry Potter will fall by my hand as certainly as the Earth will continue to spin!"

* * *

Harry was unusually bright for his age. Though the Dursleys loathed admitting it, he could have easily skipped several grades. He kept quiet and made sure his teachers understood that he would remain with his classmates: the Dursleys would not have appreciated unnecessary parent-teacher conferences. He had strong talents in reading and science and always sought out a deeper understanding of his surroundings.

However, the boy had to abide by three rules: discretion, stealth, and service. Any skills or knowledge he obtained would not be displayed to the Dursleys; he would not be seen or heard by anyone unless the Dursleys so required. Most of all, the child would make himself useful without complaint. Harry knew his role quite well. Unfortunately, he quickly realized that Hogwarts was not a place which valued discretion too highly.

On Harry's eleventh birthday, a man several heads taller than Uncle Vernon had come knocking on their door early in the morning. The pounding was louder than a construction crew, and the wood had cracked under his assault. The family, terrified, had taken cover upstairs, trying to pretend they did not exist. The birthday boy, knowing a man named Rubeus Hagrid was supposed to be visiting him soon, reluctantly opened the door. The man looked at him, focused on his scar, and quickly gave the boy a hug so strong that Harry struggled to breathe for more reasons than one.

Hagrid greeted the eleven year old with a waterfall of excitement, crashing onto the unsuspecting boy. After regaining his bearings, Harry managed to get the door closed and convince the half giant to sit down. The man animatedly introduced himself, offered birthday wishes and a cake, and quickly began to explain the role of Hogwarts in the magical world. With the prior knowledge that his charge knew very little, he tried to be as thorough as possible.

"We witches and wizards live alongside muggles, non-magic folk, but we have to stay hidden. We've got magical shields called wards which keep muggles away, and the statute of secrecy has measures in place to keep magic a secret. You can't go telling anyone about this, or the ministry will come after you. Hogwarts is where the kids of magical Britain learn how to control magic with a wand, brew potions, and work with magical plants and animals. In fifth and seventh year, you have to take tests which will tell others in the magical world what you're capable of. You need good scores if you want a good job. Your parents were great people. James and Lily were brilliant and both joined the Order of the Phoenix to help fight You-Know-Who. They died fighting for our future, and don't you forget that."

By the end, both occupants of the room were in or near tears. Before Harry could ask more questions though, the Dursleys decided to make an appearance. Vernon was enraged, the thunder in his voice and lava in his veins erupting suddenly. "How dare you bring this freakishness into my house? I demand you cease this nonsense at once! Now, you will get the bloody hell out of my home!"

Hagrid would not be tolerating the foolish man though. "Vernon Dursley, you have no right to keep Harry from getting his education. His name has been on the Hogwarts list since he was born, and he is going to learn from some of the greatest witches and wizards in the world in a school run by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest men of all time! There's nothing you can do to stop him!"

Vernon was torn between retreating from the large wizard and trying to reach the phone to call the police. Ultimately, the intimidating form of a half giant in his living room deflated the muggle's drive. He reluctantly led his family back upstairs to avoid all talk of magic. Harry was left stunned momentarily. By the time the young wizard had regained his bearings, Hagrid was once again on the couch.

"Hagrid, could you tell me more about my parents?"

The half giant went on to tell stories about James and Lily Potter and their friends, but he eventually had to explain the less pleasant details: the events of, and leading up to, October 31st 1981.

When the stories were over, Harry was exhausted mentally and emotionally, and the sun was beginning to set. Hagrid promised to return the next day and bring the boy shopping. Though he would wake several times over the night from nightmares of green light, dark wizards, and a deranged, traitorous prankster, Harry faced the morning with more joy and excitement than ever before. After all, in only a month, he would be attending the same school as his heroic parents. Overwhelming though it was, the young wizard maintained a bright smile all day long.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: The Journey **

Harry stood with his trolley, staring at the column between platforms nine and ten. Though he was inclined to trust Hagrid, the idea of running through a brick wall seemed rather daunting. Despite having walked through Diagon Alley and received much input from his guide, magic was still a new concept to the eleven-year-old. Seeing a family of red-haired people approaching, he realized that he would soon get in the way of others.

The young wizard took a deep breath, much like the beginnings of meditation, and as the air rushed out, he walked confidently through the barrier. He smiled excitedly as he drank in the scene. The crowd shifted constantly, adults helping their children onto the train before retreating reluctantly, like tides crashing upon the shore. He paused for a moment, realizing that there would be nobody to miss him in this crowd. He shook his head, made sure his scar was still covered, and focused on his task.

The train was a magnificent sight to behold. Harry would admit to being somewhat intimidated by its massive presence. Still, he began to board. He debated for a moment as to whether he should hide in an empty compartment or try to make people see past his boy-who-lived title. Ultimately, though apprehensive, he decided upon the latter.

Walking past the compartments, Harry caught sight of one with a bushy-haired girl and a boy with a toad, both of whom appeared to be about his age. He slid the door open and summoned a smile. "Hello, my name is Harry, and this is my first year. May I join you?"

Hermione Granger looked to Neville Longbottom, but he just shrugged. "You can sit with us. I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Neville. It's our first year as well. Of course, I've already memorized everything in our textbooks, but I'm still worried I won't be able to keep up with the others. I'm a muggleborn you see. What about you?"

Harry placed his trunk in the overhead compartment and laughed a bit. "Well, you'll have an edge over me in any case. My parents were magical, but I grew up with my muggle aunt and uncle. I read about half of our textbooks, but I spent more time reading about modern magical history and society. I really don't think you have anything to worry about. What about you Neville?"

The shy boy looked up from his pet, seeming surprised. "Er, I'm a pureblood, so I grew up in the magical world with my grandmother. I looked through the first chapter or two of all the books, but I only got further with the herbology text. I suspect they really don't expect you to know much of anything about magic coming in. There are loads of muggleborns after all."

Hermione became more excited with each word spoken. "I picked up a few books on magical history, but I couldn't find much on the culture. Herbology didn't catch my interest much, but it is very much related to Potions, don't you think? Now, that's a useful subject!"

Harry nodded. "I think potions and Herbology really go hand in hand. I imagine potions are rather useful, but you need to have a supply ready for the occasion. I'm more looking forward to the spell-casting courses: Defense, Charms, and Transfiguration. As for the cultural books, I didn't see much myself. I just bought the few that were there." He paused for a moment before staring intensely at Neville. "You grew up here though. Perhaps you could help us fit in?"

Neville was reluctant. He really did not think he was the best person for the task, what with his forgetfulness and near-squib-level abilities. However, when he saw the twin sets of eyes pleading with him for answers, he found it difficult to resist. "I-I don't know all that much, but… I guess I can t-try. W-what do you want to know?"

Harry beamed at the boy replying, "Thanks, Neville!" Hermione, on the other hand, was practically out of her seat with excitement. She pulled out a quill and parchment and quickly began to question her nervous classmate. "Well, while I was reading about the Wizengamot, it mentioned something about an 'Ancient and Noble House'. What does that mean?"

Neville thought for a moment, trying to figure out where to start. Nervously, he spent most the speech staring at the compartment's floor. "A House is a m-magical family which has at least one wizard for each of… three or more generations. When the house f-f-forms, a wizard from the third generation is… chosen as the Head of House. He d-decides how the family operates… and he's responsible for the rest of the house's behavior. Any house which remains… active f-for over two centuries is ancient, or it's called that anyway. Ancient houses get more respect. A Noble house is one which has a seat on the Wizengamot, so the Head of House is called a Lord and serves on the body. When a Noble House is ended… well, when there are no more witches or wizards with the house name, the seat is given to a… descendant of a former Head of House, w-without a way to claim another seat, or a branch of another Noble House. Oh, and if they can't get either of those, then it goes to an Ancient House voted on by the Wizengamot. That's it really."

The boy reluctantly looked up at the other two. He saw Hermione furiously scribbling on her parchment, looking more excited than he'd ever seen anyone, while Harry was just smiling. His eyes still held a strange intensity though, making Neville shift in his seat. Their interest was a bit reassuring though. He had been afraid they would be displeased. "Er, anything else?"

The two muggle-raised students took some time to question Neville on how to properly address others in the magical world, how to behave in certain situations, and what actions could make them unintentionally insult someone. They learned a great deal about how social status was determined and how to show proper respect. The more the three spoke, the more confident Neville became. However, the boy soon noticed something missing.

"My toad's gone! We have to find Trevor, or Gran will be furious."

Harry took in his new friend's panicked state and tried to comfort him. "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll be able to find him easily. I'll help look."

Hermione nodded with a rather serious expression. "I'll help too. We should probably split up though. Toads would probably like moist places, so I'll start by checking all the girls' lavatories. You two could split up, one going toward the front of the train and the other to the back, searching as you go."

The other two agreed with Harry volunteering to head back, knowing there were more cars in that direction. He walked down the aisle, keeping an eye out for the toad while asking people in various compartments if they had seen one. Just as he walked into the second to last car, he saw six young students in a compartment, five of whom were casting spells at a toad on the table between them.

Harry schooled his features into what he hoped looked like amusement before knocking on the door. There was a blonde boy sitting between two larger, muscular boys. On the other seat, a thinner yet taller boy seemed to studiously ignore his surroundings, as if he would rather be anywhere else, while he stared out the window. The two girls sitting next to him had no such interest though, appearing reluctant to cease their spell-fire. Both had dark hair, though one was built larger than the other. The blonde showed himself to be the leader when he waved Harry in.

Harry wasted no time. "Hello, I apologize for intruding, but your compartment seemed much more interesting than mine. Whose toad is that?"

The larger girl scoffed. "Who knows? It had the gall to infect our compartment with its filth, so we thought it best to teach the thing a lesson."

Taking in the girl's cruel expression, matched by everyone but the window-watcher, Harry decided to be cautious. "Though I'm certain your casting is improving beyond your already significant skills through this exercise, do you really think it wise to torture the pet of someone with an unknown identity? What would you do if it was owned by the heir to an Ancient and Noble House? How do you think they would react if you were caught?"

The five tormentors began to look a bit nervous, but the blonde tried to hide it. "We weren't going to keep it long enough to get caught. As a matter of fact, we are done with it." The boy made a shooing motion toward the toad. Trevor jumped off the table into Harry's waiting hand.

"I'll see that the toad returns to its owner in good health. Enjoy the rest of the train ride."

As Harry began to turn, the blonde stood. "Likewise. I'm Draco Malfoy, by the way. These two beside me are Crabbe and Goyle. The others are Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Theodore Nott. I don't believe I have the pleasure of knowing your name."

Draco had pointed to each individual in turn before offering his hand to shake. Theodore hadn't even acknowledged the stranger, but the rest at least offered a respectful nod in greeting. Harry politely shook the offered hand as he began to speak. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. My name is Harry, but I must return this toad quickly before the others in my compartment begin to feel insulted by my absence. I'll see you later."

Harry left before the others could reply. As soon as he left the car, he sighed in relief. Mentally, he thanked Neville for his advice. Without it, Harry feared the incident may have ended far worse, considering his lack of tolerance for bullying. He met with Hermione on the way back to their compartment, and Neville returned shortly after. The boy was immensely grateful to see Trevor again.

The remainder of the train ride was mostly uneventful. They spoke more about Hogwarts than anything else as their excitement grew. All three were a bit nervous about the sorting, but a part of each one hoped that they would end up together. After all, Neville had indicated that friendships between houses were more difficult to maintain. However, they resolved to stick together even if they were divided between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

**Author's Note: I apologize once again for the amount of time it takes to get these chapters up. I simply have trouble focusing. The next chapter will begin with the sorting and probably encompass first impressions on various classes, professors, and students. Until I reveal more of the prophesied foes, Harry will be the primary focus. **

**As you can probably tell, this story shall diverge from canon significantly at times. For instance, I have made many adjustments to the schedules supplied by J.K. Rowling. Since I require a clear idea of which characters are where at any given time, I have constructed excel spreadsheets with clear schedules for each professor, house, and year. I made these with the intent to nullify the absolutely ridiculous situation where three electives for the same year and house would occur simultaneously, forcing the students to choose from a more limited selection with no apparent opportunity to switch later on. That always irked me. You may notice that characters have classes at different times with different houses than in the books because I am not quite obsessive enough to reread the books, notating each time schedules were mentioned. Curfews may also be different.**

**For any who are wondering, there will likely be no pairings in this story. I have found that writing a realistic romantic relationship, as it develops, requires a great deal of patience and appreciation for the romance genre, as well as real life experience. Since I am rather lacking in these areas, I will not torment anyone reading this story with any inept attempts on my part to incorporate romance. I only mention this because I expect this story to encompass most, if not all, of Harry's years at Hogwarts as he and the other three seek to fulfill their destinies. I realize that it would be unrealistic to have large groups of teenagers who never date until the age of eighteen, so I might **_**imply**_** that some relationships have developed. Still, I will not actually write them out. These would probably be the canon relationships since I do not care enough to select others. (I will read fanfictions for any pairing as long as the plot is interesting.)**

**Any questions or criticisms are welcome.**


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